


Incalculable Variables

by Rammstein6669



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, And is unsure at first, Apex Legends, Apex Legends Headcannon, BDSM, Bottom Caustic | Alexander Nox, Breathplay, But quickly finds himself very into it, Caustic doesn’t know his limits, Caustic is addicted to inhalants lmaoooo, Choking, Consensual Sex, Cringy tattoos, DRECK, Dominance, Gay Sex, M/M, NSFW, PWP, Questionable BDSM Etiquette, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Content, Smut, Spanking, Submission, Unsafe Sex, cum as lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rammstein6669/pseuds/Rammstein6669
Summary: “Get your filthy hand off of me.”Fuse cocked his head back with a scoff at the doctor’s hissed comment, brow furrowed as he stared at him with muted surprise.“The others told me ya were a right cunt. I guess I shoulda’ taken their warning.”
Relationships: Caustic | Alexander Nox/Fuse | Walter Fitzroy
Comments: 35
Kudos: 123





	Incalculable Variables

**Author's Note:**

> First off, huge thanks to [MiniStitches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniStitches/pseuds/MiniStitches) for beta-ing this for me!!! I never have anyone to beta, so it was a nice treat!
> 
> Second, thanks to [Tomek_NB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomek_NB/pseuds/Tomek_NB) and [volatileSoloist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/volatileSoloist/pseuds/volatileSoloist) for the spanking and breathplay ideas, respectively. I was kinda riding blind with this fic, so that was a huge help!!! Also a general thanks to the Dark-Apex server for small advice here and there!
> 
> (Big creds to [not_sfw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_sfw/pseuds/not_sfw) for the super cool and serious and not funny at all Fuse tattoo idea!!!)
> 
> I neeeeever crank out fics this fast! I’ve been so obsessed with this pairing omg. There’s so much dynamic to work with, especially with Caustic. I love Fuse so much and he’s not even out yet ahhhhhhhh
> 
> I don’t think I’ve met a single Australian in my life, so take the slang with a grain of salt!! If any aussies read this, pleeeease feel free to point out mistakes! I tried to do my research, but the internet isn’t exactly the most reliable resource. There’s translations for slang terms in the end-notes. Feel free to check them out before reading! 
> 
> Enjoy!!!

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Dr. Alexander Maxwell Nox was a man that valued privacy. 

In reality, there were many things he valued: intelligence, consistency, silence... _himself_. However, privacy was his eternal goal. Unfortunately for him, living with 14 other legends didn’t exactly lend itself towards privacy. It seemed as if there was always somebody around, somebody watching or listening...or, in his current case, incessantly chattering. 

Mirage’s voice could be heard from a mile away as it bounced off of the metal walls of the building. The obnoxious buzz of the holographic expert’s vocal chords droned like a cicada in Nox’s head. He could hear every word from the other’s useless mouth as he blabbed on about the newcomer, Fuse. The legends’ housing compound had been alight with buzz about the newest competitor joining the Apex Games. Endless questions circulated as to what his abilities would be and how he would affect the current combat cycle. In addition, everybody seemed to be simply dying to know what he would be like outside of the ring. Everyone except Alexander, naturally. 

The scientist found that he couldn’t be less interested in what this new legend brought to the table. He was simply another variable to test and ultimately destroy. Nox didn’t care for the drama that everyone else seemed to be so preoccupied with. In fact, he loathed it. Perhaps that was part of the reason he had so much success in being left alone—that, and his reputation which certainly preceded him. An insane sociopath who was simply thrilled by the sight of death and suffering...not that they were very far off from the truth. Nox found that the more he played into the role of sick in the head scientist, the more the other legends left him alone. A twisted grin paired with a frustrated scowl did well in turning away nearly anyone who attempted to speak to him, even Mirage. Everyone seemed to have their cliques in this godforsaken building, and he was glad to be left out of it. Nobody asked him questions, nobody initiated conversation, and nobody _ever_ touched him. 

And so, when the newest legend introduced himself with a toothy grin and a mindless slap on the ass...

 _That_ was something Alexander Nox had not calculated for.  
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Caustic made his way hurriedly back to his quarters, his boots thudding loudly against the metal floors with each heavy, frustrated step. He quickly entered his current living space, slamming the thick door behind him. 

_The audacity!_

Fuse, the absolutely swine, had not only laid a hand on him, no. After his rather incendiary introduction, the legends had all moved to Witt’s bar, as per the game-runners demand. The socialization was necessary, they insisted. They still wore their outfits from the games, aside from the mechanical and weaponry components, of course. As usual, Nox had ordered multiple shots of strong whiskey and retreated to a small table in the back corner of the establishment. He occupied himself by leafing through the notebook he had managed to sneak in, trying his best to tone out the obnoxious commotion around him. He had been relatively successful in achieving isolation. Until Fuse approached, that is.

The newcomer, who’s age the scientist couldn’t quite place, had sat down next to him without hesitation. His prosthetic arm made a loud thud as it met the table, a cheap beer clenched tightly in its fist. He reached out with his other arm and threw it around the larger man’s shoulders, and Nox’s muscles tensed in response. 

“Get your filthy hand off of me.”

Fuse cocked his head back with a scoff at the doctor’s hissed comment, brow furrowed as he stared at him with muted surprise. 

“The others told me ya were a right cunt. I guess I shoulda’ taken their warning.”

Alexander’s blood rushed loudly in his ears, and the desire to rip off this man’s remaining arm grew exponentially. However, a booming laugh caught him off guard. 

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya, mate.” The other man spoke boisterously, patting Nox hard on the back before moving his hand back to his lap. “The name’s Walter Fitzroy, Wally if it pleases ya.”

Alexander took in the details of the other’s appearance silently. His obvious accent wouldn’t have been so annoying if he didn’t speak so unbearably loud; and the greased up mullet certainly didn’t help either. His golden eyepatch glimmered in the dim lighting of the bar, much like his prosthetic. A large scar ran across a decent portion of his face, undoubtedly from the same incident that had taken his eye. It would most certainly cause bad depth perception, Nox noted to himself. 

“So you’re the big, bad scientist everyone talks about, huh?” Fitzroy continued, pausing to take a quick sip of his beer. 

Alexander remained silent. 

“Not much of a talker, then.” The demolitions expert continued without care, slamming his now empty bottle on the table. “It does seem like there’s a coupla’ bogans ‘round here. Not a shocker that a dag like you wouldn’t wanna’ interact with ‘em.”

Nox still remained silent; the other’s pestering was truly getting on his nerves. He grabbed the one remaining shot he had on the table and downed it without hesitation, not a grimace to be seen on his face.

“Quite the piss up, this here.” Fitzroy changed the topic as he glanced around the room, fingers absentmindedly straightening his mustache. “Mirage seems to be all about the hard yakka.”

“Your vernacular tendencies fall upon deaf ears, Fitzroy.” Alexander finally spoke, his words nearly growled with distaste. 

“So ya _can_ talk!” Fuse joked immediately, waving to one of Witt’s decoys for another beer. “Quite the sultry voice on ya, too!”

The other’s comment caught Nox completely off guard. His expression must have changed, because Fitzroy grinned from ear to ear and pointed at him. 

“Ahhhh, I gotcha’ now!” He chided with another rolling laugh, his robotic hand slapping the table in amusement. 

“Whatever you believe to be implying is most certainly misguided.” Nox snapped, gloved fingers tightening around the empty glass still in his hand. 

“I may not be as smart as ya, Doc, but I’m not a total drongo.” Fuse continued to push, leaning in close to the other as he lowered his voice. “They’ve told me about ya. How ya lock yourself away in your lab, all alone for days on end.”

The other’s proximity made Nox furious, and he found himself itching to leave. If he didn’t, he might bash his skull in. Now that would give the game-runners something to talk about. 

“It must be right lonely...” Fuse continued, so close that Alexander could feel his warm breath against his ear. “Just ya and your hand...”

Heat rose to Nox’s neck and ears as a hand was placed coyly on his upper thigh, the fingers gripping tightly. He abruptly launched to his feet, the glasses before him tumbling loudly as the table shook. He stormed out of the bar without a word spoken, uncaring as all eyes trained on him. Emotions rose like bile in his throat as he made his way back home, with sheer rage being the most prominent. Thoughts of violence raced through his head, and he knew he needed to do something in order to calm himself. He had already been warned twice this year by the game-runners, and a third would only impede his research. 

His need to relax led him to where he presently was, tearing furiously through the closets and drawers in his lab. Nox prided himself on the neatness of his space, and the fact that he couldn’t find what he needed made him even angrier. He sifted through multitudes of bottles and containers, just barely resisting the urge to dump the contents of the current drawer onto the floor. After what felt like an endless search, Nox finally found what he was looking for.

Alexander held up the metal canister to the light, squinting to read the small print on the side. 

Restructured N2O

The corner of his lips turned up in the smallest semblance of a smile, his palm quickly warming the metal he held. He grabbed his mask from a hook beside his desk, identical to the one he wore during the games. He attached a long, rubber tube to the gasket on the mask, then connecting the canister to the other end of it. He made his way to the bedroom on the other side of the flat, toeing off his boots before climbing onto the relatively stiff mattress. He thought of changing into something more comfortable than the mass of thick fabric and leather he wore, but he was growing ever more impatient. He propped up a few pillows against the headboard before settling heavily onto them, then attaching the mask tightly to his face. Nox turned a small toggle on the canister, immediately taking a deep, relieved breath. The full inhalation made him cough aggressively, but the nitrous oxide immediately soothed it. The scientist instantaneously felt his muscles relax, his always calculating mind finally falling silent.

He had created a modified form of nitrous oxide years ago. It still delivered all of the euphoria without completely knocking the user out. Nobody in the upper management knew about, as nobody ever dared to enter his quarters. They would be unhappy about it, naturally. However, the cough he already had was bad enough that they wouldn’t be able to notice the effects anyways. A feeling of complete and utter detachment washed over him, and it was undeniably pleasurable. He was already detached from the outside world, of course, but it was rare that he could he could separate from himself, from his own demands and introspection. 

Nox let himself slump back against the pillows, his legs splayed languidly before him. His arm were limp by his sides, and they felt weightless against the soft fabric of the blanket. His let his mind wander—euphoric— until a sudden noise pulled him from his reverie. He reached down to close the canister, struggling to get his hands to cooperate. He heard the sound once more, this time realizing it was somebody banging on his door. He tore the mask from his face with a frustrated growl, tossing it to his side. If it was some no-name assistant from lower management, he would rip their throat out. Yeah, he could definitely get away with that. 

Nox rose from the bed and headed towards the door, but the effects of the gas caught up to him suddenly. The world spun around him, and he was unable to catch himself as he slammed forcefully into the wall. His broad shoulder rammed into the plastered surface, cracking it immediately. _What embarrassingly low quality construction._

The door was slammed upon once more, and this time it made him _furious_. He could feel the rage ruining the pleasant effects of his high, and he was determined to snuff out whoever thought they were worthy of disturbing him. He stomped to the door hurriedly, working to unlock the multiple latches with fingers that felt like lead. 

“If your presence is not absolutely necessary, I will make you regret it wholeheartedly.” Nox snapped as he open the door, freezing in place as he finally saw who the source of the incessant pestering was. 

He had expected management—possibly a stern reprimanding in regards to his abrupt exit from the bar. Or perhaps even somebody like Mirage, drunk and bored and attempting to entertain themselves. But this?

Much to Alexander’s chagrin, Walter Fitzroy stood before him, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. He looked the same as he had at the bar, not even glossy eyed from the undoubtedly excessive amount of cheap beer he had consumed. 

“You best hope whatever you have to say is worthy of my attention.” Nox seethed, his sharp eyebrows pulled into an intense scowl. 

“Well, I guess it’s your decision, mate.” Fitzroy spoke with a smug smile as he held up a certain black notebook. “Ya left it at the bar.”

The scientist’s eyes narrowed in distaste, and he quickly snatched his belonging from the other’s hand. “Will that be all?” 

“What, you’re not gonna invite me in for a coldie?” Wally joked, eyeing the other flatly. 

Caustic stared down at the other, with the emphasis on _down_. Nox hadn’t noticed how much shorter the other was when they had been sitting. Now that they were on their feet, the scientist had him easily dwarfed. He reached an arm out and planted it firmly on the inside of the doorframe, making it clear that, no, he was not going to invite the other in. 

However, with a repulsively self assured movement, Fuse ducked underneath the blockade and simply waltzed into Nox’s room. The confidence in the move was so uncalled for, so unexpected, that Alexander found himself momentarily stunned. He finally comprehended what had just happened, and he slammed the door behind him out of rage. He turned and stalked towards the smaller man who was now, much to his dismay, opening the fridge. 

“If you don’t remove yourself from this premise, I shall be forced to do so myself...” Nox spat towards the smaller man, his voice rough as he set his notebook down. “And I will show no semblance of kindness.”

Fuse stared at the contents of the fridge momentarily, closing the door with a disappointed shake of his head. He walked over towards the scientist with a proud gait, hands confidently planted on his hips. 

“Ya seem to really like to order people around.” He observed with a somewhat sarcastic tone, his head cocked to the side as he stared at the other. “Is that what ya think about when you bat off?”

Caustic’s knowledge of the Salvonian-Australian vernacular was weaker than he enjoyed to admit. However, even a dullard could figure that one out. 

“You seem to have quite an interest in my predilections, Mr. Fitzroy.” Nox challenged lowly, starting to catch on to what the other was doing. He wouldn’t allow his mind to be toyed with like that. “I believe that says something significant about your own.”

“If anyone will tell ya who I like to pash with, it’ll be me.” Wally shot immediately back with a grin, looking up to the larger man defiantly. “AC/DC, mate. I won’t say no to a nice sheila, but a good bloke? Any day of the week...

Especially the big ones like you.”

The smaller man’s comment made Nox take a step back, his face now taut with disgust. This man’s unabashed openness was revolting at the least, and it made the larger man feel utterly repulsed. At least that’s what his mind said. Alexander felt his cheeks redden at the other’s abrasiveness, and he was grateful that his beard would hide most of it. The lack of regard for common decency was...unfamiliar to him. Fuse stepped forward, once again violating the larger man’s personal space without hesitation. 

“Ya see, Doc, I may not be the smartest one here...” The Salvonian continued, brow furrowing with tenacity. “But I’m certainly the boldest.”

Nox watched with somewhat bated breath as the demolitions expert turned and walked away, now heading directly towards his bedroom. The chemist was quick to follow, recalling the fact that he had left the nitrous oxide fully exposed on the bed. Much to his dismay, the obnoxious legend made his way directly towards it. 

“Don’t even think about touching anything with your filthy hands.” Caustic spat at the other, the words like acid off of his tongue. 

Fitzroy looked at him with a positively devious face before he spoke. “And if I do decide to touch, what’ll happen?”

The lewd purr of the other’s voice left Nox conflicted. Part of him wanted to harm the smaller man gravely for entering his sanctum. However, another part wanted to see how far this would go—to _observe_ —as was his true nature. He took a large stride forward, now taking the opportunity to invade Fuse’s space. The shift of power was palpable, a well executed waltz between them. 

“I have you read, Nox.” Fitzroy declared softly, his arms now crossed tightly across his chest. 

“Then enlighten me on what you think you know.” Caustic responded flatly. 

“You’re an intelligent bugger who loves control.” Wally began, his voice rough in its accented confidence. “Ya pride yourself being the brightest in the ring, ahead of everyone else.”

_Well, he wasn’t wrong._

“And because of that...” Fuse continued, his voice lower as his tone changed to one more aggressive. “Nothing gets ya harder than a stupid bastard like me.”

Nox’s breath caught in his chest as Fitzroy suddenly stepped forward, so close they were almost touching. The smaller man looked up with a vicious glare, fists balled by his sides. 

“When your control is stripped away, you’ve got nothing. That nothing is when ya can finally feel.”

The air in the room was thick like honey, the tension palpable and dense. Nox held his breath, his mind reeling, as his knuckles grew white from the vice-like grips of his fists. Thoughts raced through his mind in a loud, shrill buzz, and he tried desperately to sort them. He found himself unable to formulate a response, and thankfully he didn’t have to. 

“That’s where I come in.”

Fitzroy rushed forward, pushing his hands against the other’s broad chest until his back collided with the wall. Nox grunted as the back of his head slammed against the surface, making his vision swim for a brief moment. He felt the smaller man’s breath against his shoulder—hot and fast— and it made it difficult to think. Without warning he felt a sharp bite to the sensitive skin of his neck, and he gasped in shock. He immediately tried to push the other away, but Fitzroy’s hand shot like lightning to his groin. His breath hitched as the other’s prosthesis tightly gripped him through multiple layers of clothing, confident and deterministic. 

“I knew you'd have quite the tool on ya.” Fitzroy spoke again, his voice now rough with heat. 

Nox knew he needed to act. He needed to say something, needed to throw the other across the room and beat him until his skull caved in. He couldn’t be seen this weak willed, so easily swayed and toyed with. This ran the risk of completely ruining his reputation, especially to the other legends. However, the truth in what the smaller man had said stole the words from his mouth. He took pride in not feeling, his clinical detachment serving him exceptionally well in his research. It kept him dangerously sharp...unable to be calculated for. And yet, Fitzroy had read him like an open book. He couldn’t afford to let his defenses down. 

Nox grabbed the other abruptly by the neck, forcing him back until he fell against the bed. The smaller man took rasping inhales, his face reddening. Nox pressed him harder into the mattress, and an annoyed scowl crept onto his face when he saw Fitzroy smile. The sudden pressure of a knee rubbing purposefully against his groin made him falter, his grip loosening. Fuse took hold of the opportunity, his metal hand reaching out to grab Nox’s gloved fingers in a crushing grip. The scientist hissed in pain, pulling away with a significant amount of effort. The smaller man quickly rose to his feet, flanking around Nox and grabbing him from behind. Alexander tried to free himself from the hold, but the other’s prosthesis refused to budge. The feeling of his solid hand moving to palm hungrily at his undeniably hard length made the larger man’s knees week, and he struggled to stay standing. 

“That gets ya right stoked, I reckon.” Fuse jeered suddenly, humor laced in his tone. 

Without warning, the Salvonian nipped firmly on the other’s earlobe, a wet tongue darting out to soothe the pain immediately afterwards. A pitiful little noise escaped Nox at that, a mix between a growl and a desperate moan surfacing from deep in his chest. The sound was so unexpected that it caught both of them off guard, the scientist thoroughly embarrassed by the uncalled for outburst. He cursed his traitorous body, appalled at his absolute lack of self control. 

“Let yourself go, Doc.” Fitzroy insisted, almost as if he had read his godforsaken mind. “Even a galah like me can see how bad ya want it.” 

Alexander breathed heavily against the other’s arms, struggling to remain coherent. The rational side of his mind demanded that he respond accordingly: with violence and cruelty. However, the emotional side of his mind, the part that so rarely impacted his decisions, implored him to continue. Nox wanted to believe that this was a leftover residual effect of the nitrous oxide, but he would only be lying to himself. He had tailored the compound specifically for a quick come down. The more reasonable explanation was obvious, even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

Years without the touch of another human had taken their toll on the reclusive sociopath. He had long ago accepted that the only arousal he felt would stem from expertly elicited suffering. However, a warm hand and gruesome mental images could only get one so far. This, one the other hand, was real. This was in his face and loud...unconditionally exigent. He had no opportunity to craft a vast fantasy—not a moment to think or collect himself. Caustic was not a man who enjoyed acting on impulse. 

The smaller man was impulse incarnate. 

Nox’s legs didn’t resist as the Salvonian pushed him towards the bed, finally letting him go. The scientist’s broad chest heaved with breaths, completely uncalled for considering how little he had done. He turned to look at the other, only to be promptly pushed backwards onto the bed. He managed to catch himself in time, arms planted firmly behind him as he sat on the edge. However, the smaller man wasted no time in crawling upon him, straddling his broad thighs with a salacious grin. Fuse put a hand in the center of his chest, pushing him onto his back with minimal effort. The heavy materials of Nox’s costume felt constricting against his chest, and he could feel himself overheating. The fact that Fuse was now grinding against him unabashedly only made it worse, the material now unbearably constructing somewhere _else_. The deliberate motions made the scientist flush harder, his hands now tightly gripping the edge of the bed. The other pressed against him with more intensity, and the purposeful friction against his hardness made his breath stutter. Caustic watched as the other quickly removed the leather vest and accessories he wore, leaving him in nothing but pants and a worn, sleeveless shirt. 

“Your turn, big boy.” Fuse boasted, pausing his movements until Nox followed suit. 

The larger man reached down to undo the belt cinched tightly around his waist. As he unclipped the buckle, the other thrust forward, effectively pushing his bulge against Nox’s hand. The purposeful motion didn’t go unnoticed, and Alexander returned the exchange without even thinking. He reached down and grabbed a firm hold of the other’s length, gloved fingers digging roughly into thick, canvas pants. 

“There you go, mate.” Fuse crooned approvingly, his voice slightly strained under the rough ministrations. 

The smaller man suddenly removed himself from the other, and Nox took the opportunity to continue undressing. He returned to a sitting position, working himself out of the yellow, leather smock-apron that hung to his knees. Wally eyed what was revealed with direct interest, his glare obviously lingering at the prominent bulge in the front of his thick, kevlar pants. The larger man remained silent as the other stepped in between his legs, looking down to his intense, chartreuse eyes. Fitzroy didn’t hesitate to pull his own shirt over his head, putting his thoroughly tattooed body on display. Caustic stared with an embarrassingly lecherous gaze, taking note of everything the smaller man had to offer. Black tattoos crept in elaborate, swirling patterns across his defined pectorals and centered on his nipples. His clean shaven body was very toned, although it still contained a soft swell that hinted at age and zealous thirst for beer. Nox looked at his large biceps and broad shoulders, admiring how the prosthetic fit seamlessly against his skin. The completely uncalled for thought of those strong arms wrapped around his neck had his cock twitching, and he grew increasingly desperate to get a hand on it. He hurriedly removed the rubber gloves that were formed tightly to his hands, uncaring as he revealed the fact that he was missing the two outer fingers on his left hand. He undid the securely fastened clips and straps on his thick, canvas shirt, not hesitating to completely slip out of it. 

Nox felt unexpectedly exposed under the other’s thorough inspection. His taste for privacy very much included his own body, and he found himself somewhat uncomfortable at the lack of barriers between them. He wasn’t ashamed of his appearance in the slightest, no. This body was simply a vessel to allow him to continue his research, and it had served him well over the years. Scars from chemical burns covered most of his muscular arms, some making their way up to his shoulders and chest. The skin was rough, melted, and discolored, the harsh toxins having seared away the color on the affected areas. He still considered himself to be relatively fit despite the changes he had noticed over the recent years. His incredibly broad chest and toned abdomen still retained their muscle mass, certainly an effect of hauling the gear he did during the games. However, his age showed in the softening of skin and added fat, his chest hair now grey where it had not been singed off. He wasn’t nearly as vain as the other legends, in terms of appearance at least. 

Nox inhaled suddenly as Fuse leaned down and began to undo his cargo pants, the movement of those deft fingers pulling him from his reverie. The smaller man wasted no further time, not waiting for confirmation as he pulled them down. The scientist’s briefs went with them, and his large erection sprang lewdly from its confines. 

“Ripper!” Fuse spoke after an impressed whistle, eyebrows raised with surprise. “Now, that’s right impressive.” 

Nox reached down in an attempt to finally grab a hold of himself, but his hand was firmly slapped away by the other. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words were cut off as he was one again forced onto his back by broad palms against his chest. He stared up at the other, his heart racing at the realization that this was really happening. 

“I’m gonna make ya feel bloody good.” Fuse assured the larger man, his accented voice nothing more than a rumbling whisper as he quickly shed his own pants and boxers. Caustic stared with hooded eyes at what was revealed, and the other laughed at that. 

Fitzroy’s erection stood proudly between muscular thighs, obviously displaying his desire to get moving. However, that wasn’t what caught the chemist’s eyes. Right above the Salvonian’s dick was a tattoo, the thick, black text stamped across his pelvis. 

_**Free Rides** _

The absurdity of the situation finally caught up with Nox, and he opened his mouth to speak. However, it was silenced when he inhaled a hissed breath as the other reached down and wrapped a firm hand around his length. The cold metal of the prosthetic clashed vehemently with his heated skin, the temperature change sending an intense shiver throughout his body. He found it hard to breathe under the experienced ministrations, and his hips bucked upwards in an involuntary search for more. 

“Like a teenager getting off for the first time.” Fitzroy mused with a large grin, his hand not ceasing it motions. “Bloody responsive.”

An embarrassed blush crept up on the larger man’s freckled cheeks, Fuse’s comment worming it’s way deep into his brain. He chided himself for being so weak, for allowing such rushed fumblings to affect him so greatly. He tried to steel himself, although the attempt was futile. The feeling of the other’s thumb pressing mercilessly against the head of his erection forced a hushed groan from his throat. 

“Ya don’t have to hide from me.” Fuse offered honestly, obviously amused by the display before him. “The one eye I got left has seen everything.”

Caustic’s lips parted to allow for heavy, heated breaths, the small amount of space between them suddenly feeling oppressively small. He squirmed beneath the Salvonian in an attempt find to more room, and it only seemed to spur him on even more. 

“Move to the middle of the bed.” Fuse instructed firmly, pulling his hand away without warning. 

The ordering nature of the comment had Caustic pausing, the barely remaining rational side of his brain telling him that, _No, Alexander Nox is not a man who takes orders._ However, his now throbbing length insisted otherwise. The thought of having to wait longer for that cool touch to return had him quickly climbing towards the center of the mattress. 

“Atta boy.” Fitzroy praised jokingly, still wearing that proud smile. 

Alexander watched with overt interest—prurient—as the other gave his thick length a few firm pumps, now fully hard as he crawled towards the him. Nox saw the predatory look on his face as he sauntered closer, a look that he normally wore. It felt so extremely odd to be on the receiving end, and no longer could he deny it made him ache. He wanted more.

“What exactly are your intentions tonight, Mr. Fitzroy?” He managed to croak out, his voice hoarse from dryness and disuse. 

“If you’re asking what I plan to do to ya...” Fuse picked apart the larger man’s elaborate words, now moving to straddle his large thighs. “The answer is everything.”

The breathy whisper carried implications that made Nox’s cock twitch against his abdomen. 

“I’ll tease until you’re begging and just keep pulling ya back from the edge. I’ll fuck ya so good that ya won’t be able to walk for a week.” Fuse growled as he leaned over the other, palms planted firmly on either side of his head. “And I know exactly where to start.”

Without warning Fitzroy wrapped his right hand around Caustic’s neck, firm and testing. The scientist felt the threat of pressure, his breathing just the slightest bit limited. The grip tightened bit by bit, so slowly it was barely noticeable. The feeling of the metal against his sensitive skin was cold and impersonal—detached. He wondered if this was how his victims felt once they had inhaled his toxins, gagging as they choked to death on their own blood. The thought made his erection leak against his pelvis, and his narrow lips parted in an ineffectual attempt to pull in more air. His right hand reached up to his neck, instinctually trying to pull the other off of him. However, Fitzroy refused to budge, instead gripping firmer as a cruel sort of punishment. His unoccupied hand grabbed Alexander’s wrist firmly, pulling it up above his head. The change in position put unexpected force on his ribcage, making it even harder to breathe. Nox felt his larynx aching beneath the other’s hold, his chest beginning to convulse as he was denied oxygen. Fitzroy’s thumb and forefinger pressed firmly against both carotid arteries, effectively blocking the main transfer of blood to his brain as well. The hold was performed with such precision that Nox blearily thought about how this certainly wasn’t his first time doing this. The solid fingertips rasped against his beard, and he could hear nothing but his rapid breathing and the erratic thrumming of his veins. Black began to creep into the edges of his vision as his heart slowed desperately, and panic rose from where it had been deeply buried within him. He was completely at mercy to the other, not possessing the slightest bit of control. He soon found himself unable to think, his arms tingling as they fell limply back to the bed. Just as he felt himself beginning to slip into a state of unconsciousness—nothingness—the hand was removed. Like surfacing from deep within a body of water, Alexander felt his senses return as he was allowed a massive inhale. The oxygen jumpstarted his system, his hands prickling almost painfully at the return of blood. However, just as soon as he had begun to regain his bearings, the merciless palm returned, effectively snuffing out his senses. The scientist managed to glance up to the other, although it took a monumental effort. Wally’s face was shockingly serene, the only indication that anything was happening being the thorough reddening of his pale complexion. The lack of emotion made Nox determined not to give in, absolutely not willing to be the one to stop this brutal scene. A choked gurgle escaped his diaphragm then, his throat spasming uselessly against the other’s palm as spit welled in his throat. His eyes watered under the pressure, and he found it thoroughly embarrassing even though emotion played no role. Light once again began to slip from his vision, and the silence it brought upon was utterly relieving. No thoughts, no calculations, nothing but total numbness and burning arousal. Suddenly the smaller pulled away, and Alexander found himself desperately gasping as his body teetered on the edge of shutting down. The overwhelming deluge of sensations was too much, and the slightest brush of the other’s hand against his straining erection had him crying out as he climaxed. His muscles tightened as his cock throbbed, cum painting his navel and chest, and his nails dug helplessly into the blanket beneath him. His lungs and throat ached as he felt himself returning to his senses, his own inhales still distant in his ears. Once the blur in his vision had cleared enough to see, he was greeted with a smug smile from Fuse as he jacked himself off above him. 

“That was right hot, mate.” He commented as he bit his lower lip, sweat beading along his hairline. “Didn’t even have to touch ya.”

Nox laid motionlessly on the bed, his chest still heaving as he Fitzroy repositioned himself inside of his thick thighs. He hadn’t peaked like that in years, if ever. He felt completely drained, and yet his body still thrummed with vibrant arousal. The intensity of the sensation was new to him, and he found himself surprised that he could still manage that at his age. Amazing, how the human body could react so potently to pain—agony and rapture blending together seamlessly. He wondered idly if any of his victims had experienced the same pleasure he had felt mere moments ago as he had choked the life from them. 

Alexander watched with shock as the other carelessly slid his fingers through the puddle of cum now dripping slowly down his sides, and the sight had the scientist grimacing with disgust. He had always kept his nights of self pleasure neat, a towel readily on hand to handle the brunt of the mess. The other’s lack of shame made Nox feel embarrassed for him. So, when those slick fingers were suddenly pressed against his hole, he startled almost violently. 

“Relax, big guy.” Fuse calmed him mindlessly, his thick erection jutting lewdly from his groin. “It’ll feel better if ya do.”

Every logical fiber of Caustic’s being protested vehemently. That period of his life was long gone, killed when his name had died in that explosion so many years ago. He wasn’t a spry college student anymore, and this extreme vulnerability wasn’t fit for a man of his age and status. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Nox interjected suddenly, and he found himself reddening at the absolutely ruined state of his voice—cracking and grating as he spoke. “I’ve already found my finish.”

“Well, I haven’t.” Fuse retorted with a grin, continuing to caress his length as his other hand teased the larger man’s entrance. “And besides, I know I can get ya off again.”

Nox huffed with annoyance at the other’s comment, his body still heavy against the bed. “You seem forget that I’m not as young as the other legends.”

Fuse laughed at that, the noise surfacing from deep within his chest. “You’re saying that to the oldest legend in the Apex Games, mate. You’ll have to come up with a better excuse.”

Caustic found himself annoyed by the other’s comment. _Fuse was older than him?_ There was no way that could be the case. _He_ was the oldest legend, the one that still dominated in the ring despite his age. The thoughts were robbed from him as a thick finger entered, the feeling making his breath catch in his still aching throat. The slight burn spoke intimately to the carnal side of his brain that was still invigorated by the current situation, and it reminded him of the trysts in his college years. Another finger was added, and the subtle pain of them scissoring him open had his limp dick twitching weakly against his still damp pelvis. He could feel his already minimal revolve dissipating further, his body now a wanton display of excess desire. The feelings were invigorating—new and investing—and he found himself eager to further explore, even if only for the sake of experimentation. Fuse’s middle finger sunk deeper and curled intentionally against the small bundle of nerves there, and the feeling made Nox jolt upwards from the bed. He found it unbelievable that his body was already aching for more, but it was simply undeniable. He couldn’t help but let his legs fall open, the action receiving a slight chuckle from the other. The older man continued to finger him, and a needy moan escaped his lips despite his best efforts to repress it. The other was simply too good. Fuse once again ran his hand nonchalantly through the now cold puddle on his stomach, this time completely coating his solid length with the spend. Alexander’s stomach turned. 

“Had you simply inquired, I would have quickly provided proper lubrication.” He spoke sharply to the other, making sure his disgust was obvious.

“Nah!” Fitzroy retorted as he pumped his fist over himself, slick and dirty. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The older man hooked his muscular arms under the other’s large thighs, pulling them upwards abruptly. The motion forced Nox’s hips up, and a small shudder ran through his body when he felt the heat of the other’s length against him. He felt completely debased in this vulnerable position, his legs now slung over Fitzroy’s shoulders. However, any semblance of coherent concern was wiped clean once the other began to push in. The broad head of his cock entered with relative ease, the stretch causing Nox to inhale sharply as he grabbed hold of the blankets under him. Fuse continued to push— unrelenting—until his cock had completely slipped inside of the larger man’s heat. Caustic felt his own length twitch weakly at the feeling of the other’s hips seated firmly against his ass, his breath caught in his throat.

“You ready for a proper root?” Fuse checked in courteously, biting his lower lip in an attempt to calm himself down. 

Alexander’s vibrant eyes locked with the older man’s, and he gave a small nod. That tiny gesture gave away to lust like broken floodgates to an angry river. Fuse immediately began to thrust into the chemist, his pace fast and energetic. Nox let out a small grunt at the motions, the feeling bordering on too much too fast. He was so unused to partaking in these activities, never mind being on the receiving end—being used. And that’s exactly what this was. _Being used_. Caustic found his mind wandering in a hazy delirium, thoughts appearing and disappearing within seconds. The feeling of being fucked like this was inescapable...all encompassing and overwhelming. He was at mercy to the other’s desire now, his body serving a purpose purely carnal. The act felt seedy in his pristine, academic mind, the mere thought screaming of filth and obscenity. Firm hands on his hips sent a jolt of arousal through his stomach, and he groaned lowly at the feeling. 

“Let it go, Nox.” Fuse persisted as he continued to thrust, his voice now slightly strained. “I wanna hear ya.”

The prospect of pulling an array of filthy sounds from such a reserved man seemed to excite Fitzroy even more, and he thrust into the larger man with increased intensity. The harsh movements were pushing Alexander upwards, and he soon found his head pressing uncomfortably against the headboard. The feeling of the older man reaching up to firmly toy with an erect nipple made Nox _whine_ , the sound shockingly unconstrained from somebody like him. He could feel his length beginning to ache once more, looking down to see himself now semi-hard. He tried to keep his eyes off of the other, but the desire to witness and observe had him staring in awe at the sight of the other’s girth fucking into him over and over again. Fuse caught his hungry eyes frantically roaming and grinned proudly, much to Nox’s embarrassment. His hamstrings burned from being stretched in such an awkward position, and he let his legs slip off of the other’s shoulders with a slight wince. 

Fitzroy pulled out without warning, and Alexander found himself mourning the loss. Before he had time to speak, the other barked a simple order. 

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Nox found his body obeying before he could even think about it, settling hurriedly onto his broad palms. The other entered him immediately after, and the feeling made him groan once more. He struggled to keep his balance against the soft mattress, leaning back into the harsh snapping of the other’s hips. Fuse’s cock filled him _completely_ from this angle, and he swore he could feel it in his stomach. That thick heat split him wide open, his eyes clenched tightly shut as a result of the brutal pace. His dark hair had begun to fall loose from its normally tightly slicked back position, and Fitzroy seemed to take notice. He roughly coiled a hand into Nox’s hair as his prosthetic pushed bruises into his hip. A grunt caught in the larger man’s throat as his head was pulled back, and the sharp bite of pain only made him harder. His back arched whorishly from the aggressive hold, and he found himself pushing back in time with the other’s thrust, silently asking for more. 

“I wanna hear ya say it.” Fuse demanded breathlessly as he began to pull out, leaving only the head still in the other. “Beg me for what ya want.”

Caustic struggled to put together a coherent phrase, his mind blind to anything but pleasure. A desperate “Please–“ was all he could manage. However, it wasn’t enough. 

“Come on, Doc.” Fuse chided with amusement, finally letting the other’s hair loose from his grasp. “I know ya can do better with that big brain of yours.”

“Fuck me!” Nox spat hurriedly, the nasty phrase particularly harsh from such a clean mouth. Vulgarity was one of the many things that he generally despised, and it felt abnormal as it rolled off his tongue. But then again, nothing about this situation was exactly _normal_. 

That seemed to suffice for the older man, and he resumed the intense snapping of his hips. The new angle made it easier for him to hit the scientist’s prostate, and that’s exactly what he did. Arousal shot like lightning through Caustic’s lower abdomen, and the sensation forced a low pitched, rumbling groan from his diaphragm. 

_This was release_ , Nox thought to himself. This was pleasure and weakness and abandon. Sensation ruled over him now, dominating him in every way, shape, and form. His intelligence meant nothing here, and that concept was more arousing than he ever could have anticipated. Walter Fitzroy, a man whom he had only known for the better part of a day, was absolutely ruining him. He was reducing him to animalistic instinct—debasing and debauching. And without a condom nonetheless, an astoundingly reckless move for somebody so dedicated to calculations and protocol. However, he found himself unable to care, unable to do anything but reach a hand between his thighs to pleasure himself further. A hand moved from his hip to the back of his neck, hot as it pressed roughly downward. The elbow of the arm he still balanced upon gave out, and his face was pressed forcefully into the pillow beneath him. Fuse leaned over him then, using his weight to hold him in place as he continued to fuck him. Nox tried to keep stroking himself, but the sudden, biting pain of a slap on his ass made him falter. He tried to steal a glance behind him, but he could see nothing past the round muscle of his shoulder. Another slap made contact without warning, and the intensity of this one had him hissing softly in pain. 

“I gotta give ya credit...” Fuse spoke breathlessly as his hips slapped lewdly against the other’s ass. “For somebody who likes to dish out pain, you can sure take it, too.”

The compliment hit Alexander harder than he expected, and it made him even more determined to endure the other’s onslaught. Another strike connected with his soft skin, and he gave up in trying to get himself off, instead grabbing the comforter beneath him in an attempt to stay quiet. Fuse’s palm struck him harshly, this time wrapping around to the inner side of his thigh. The pain seared into the sensitive skin there, and he bit into the blanket in an attempt to handle it. The burning pain brought back memories of volatile chemicals spreading like blight across his hands and arms, but he forced them from his mind. This was happening _now_ —in the present. _Now_ , his face was pulled into a tight grimace as he was pushed against the bed. _Now_ , his legs trembled as he attempted to withstand the force of the other’s brutal thrusts. _Now_ , a loud groan was forced from his chest as another slap reigned upon his reddened flesh. 

“Ya handle this like a right ringer, Nox.” Fuse huffed with exhilarated breaths, his palm now rubbing soothing circles into the other’s abused skin. “It’s like you’re built for it.”

The comment had a flood of thoughts rushing through Alexander’s delirious mind, his chest heaving. This filthy behavior was so different from his normally reserved and calculating nature, a completely different path from the one he had taken. The sudden thought of a life spent lasciviously seeking out rough intimacy from strangers ran through his brain, and it made his cock throb. Precum dripped onto the bed beneath him—salacious—and he moaned once more. He could feel his peak approaching, but the sensation was quickly cut short by Fuse creating a tight ring around the base of his thick cock with the fingers of his prosthetic. The cold metal pressed almost painfully against his sensitive skin, and he grunted with frustration as he felt his arousal return to an agonizing simmer in his abdomen. 

“Please...” Nox begged, his rough voice broken against the bed. His body _ached_ for release, the sensation driving him mad. 

“Please what?” Fuse jeered, his fingers tightening their hold. He continued to thrust mercilessly against the other’s prostate, and the tightness made him sigh in pleasure. 

“Let me—“ The larger man struggled to speak through the ecstasy, the ceaseless thrusts almost overbearing. “I can’t...please.”

Nox tried his best to achieve release, grinding his hips down in an attempt to get any friction from the other’s solid fingers. However, the firm grip was unrelenting. His thick length hurt from the lack of stimulation while the solid cock fucking him kept him right on the precipice. 

“Say it!” Fuse demanded roughly, once again slapping the other’s ass as he continued to ravage him. 

“Let me cum!” Alexander all but screamed, his low voice roaring as it boomed across the small room. The obscene words rang in his ears, mixing into the filthy cacophony of moans and slapping skin. It felt wrong for a man of his status to say, but so unbelievably _right_ in this situation. It was exhilarating, and he couldn’t prevent the next phrase from slipping from his parted lips. 

“Fill me!”

The profane demand had Fuse buckling over in arousal, his hips stuttering. Caustic moaned loudly as the tight fingers finally released, instead moving to quickly pump his aching length. The feeling of finally being allowed friction sent him crashing over the edge. Nox cried out as he came, his defined muscles clenching involuntarily as wave after wave of pleasure spread through his stomach. His climax was dry compared to the first, nothing more than a few weak drops of release dripping onto the bed. However, the sensations were just as strong, if not better, as Fuse fucked him through it. Ecstasy thrummed through every vein in his body, and he found it hard to catch his breath through the deluge of euphoria. Suddenly, the feeling of the older man’s cock repeatedly hitting his prostate grew to be overpowering. Nox let his exhausted legs slip out from under him, allowing himself to fall flat onto his stomach in an attempt to escape the incessant contact. However, Fuse followed him down, not losing his pace for even a moment. Alexander’s entire body was trembling with overstimulation, teetering right on the edge of pain. He moaned feebly beneath the Salvonian, sweat glistening in a fine sheen on his broad back. Right as he seriously contemplated pulling away, Fuse swore vociferously above him before burying himself as deep as possible. Nox gasped at the feeling of the other’s cock twitching inside of him, and his face reddened as warm heat filled him. Fitzroy collapsed onto him after that, his weight making it even harder to breathe, although he didn’t really mind. They laid together motionlessly for a significant amount of time, the room silent save for their mutual heavy exhales. 

After both legends had somewhat regained their breath, Caustic found his muscles beginning to ache under the other’s weight. He shifted slightly beneath the Salvonian, and the other took the hint. Fuse slowly rose to his hands and knees, and Nox groaned softly as he finally pulled out. As soon as Fitzroy’s softening length was gone, Alexander could feel his cum dripping slowly down his groin and inner thigh. The mental image made him redden with embarrassment, and he turned gingerly onto his side in an attempt to save what little dignity he had left. He watched silently as the older man rose from the bed and rooted through his discarded clothes, shaking his head with distaste as Fuse lit a cheap cigarette before sitting back down onto the edge of the bed. 

Nox stared silently at the Salvonian’s back, his body still buzzing with the warm afterglow of his orgasm. He attempted to turn over onto his back, but a sharp jolt of pain had him quickly turning back over with a hiss. 

“I told ya, ya wouldn’t be able to walk.” Fitzroy mused as he took another drag, his unoccupied hand mindlessly fixing his hair. 

The older man finally turned around, and sharp chartreuse eyes met with relaxed brown. A moment of silent tension settled between them, but it was quickly broken by the demolitions expert. 

“I’d offer to stay and take care of ya, but I think you’d try to kill me.” Fuse thought aloud, putting the half smoked cigarette out on his metal hand before tucking it behind an ear. 

“You’re smarter than I anticipated, then.” Caustic returned, the faintest hint of a grin pulling at his reddened lips. 

“A better root, too, judging by how sore you are.” The older man joked with a toothy grin as he rose from the bed and quickly began to redress himself. 

Nox remained silent, not particularly enjoying being the brunt of the other’s subtle insults. 

“I’ll leave you to lick your wounds in peace, then.” Fuse spoke softly as he slipped his boots back over his feet. 

“Our encounter was...enlightening, to say the least.” Nox admitted to the other, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind an ear. The haze of pleasure he still felt made him more keen to speak than he normally would have been. 

“Well, in that case ya know where to find me. I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.” Fuse continued as he pulled his vest back on, not bothering to reattach the bandolier he originally wore. “We could maybe even switch it up, I reckon.”

Alexander watched as the other winked and turned to leave, his pants thoroughly accentuating his round ass. He remained silent on the bed, even as Fitzroy discreetly slipped his notebook off the table in the living room and under his arm. Nox smiled at that. 

These experiments were _far_ from over.  
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**Author's Note:**

> A few slang translations:
> 
> Bogans=Idiots  
> Dag=Academic/nerd  
> Piss up=Party  
> Hard yakka=Hard work  
> Drongo=Dumbass  
> Coldie=Cold beer  
> Bat off=Jack off  
> AC/DC=Swings both ways  
> Shiela=Girl  
> Stoked=Turned on  
> Galah=Dumbass  
> Root=Fuck  
> Ringer=Pro/Expert
> 
> I hope y’all liked it!!! Please leave kudos and (especially) comments if you did! It’s a big help to motivate to write more! <3


End file.
